


Let Me Take You Down

by blue_jack



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha!Peter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Bottom Wade Wilson, Dom/sub Undertones, Intersex Wade, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, No boxes, Rough Sex, Top Peter Parker, omega!Wade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:04:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8579638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/pseuds/blue_jack
Summary: Wade hated his heat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Er, hello. *waves* So I should admit that I've never read any of the Deadpool comics, and it's been forever since I read any of the Spider-Man comics, and okay, there is a reason this is AU, alright? But I've been going through fanfics like crazy, and I just wanted to contribute my two cents (of smut), and here we are.
> 
> Finally, there are no boxes in this, because it didn't work with the flow. And also, the boxes intimidate me. >_>
> 
> I lied, one more thing. The title is in the song "Strawberry Fields Forever" by the Beatles, but that is purely coincidental since I'm not referencing the song in any way. The song is now stuck in my head, however, for what it's worth.

Wade hated his heat, hated it so much that he dreaded the whole six months in between each one, counting the days until the next one, growing quieter and more withdrawn until the day finally arrived.

Not that it mattered, though. His body would have its due.

“You like that, don’t you?” Peter gasped as he pounded into him, his cock stretching him wide, making a place inside of Wade that it felt like only he could fill.

“Yes,” Wade panted, crazed, shoving back just as hard, harder, needing the friction, the ache. 

“Tell me you love it.” Peter shoved Wade’s head down onto the bed—and okay, Wade hadn’t been expecting Peter to have muscles, but damn—pinning his neck under his hand as he forced his way into Wade’s pussy, again and again.

Wade would’ve, eager to please in a way that he never was outside of his heat, except Peter’s knot was starting to form, sliding in and out of him. Peter wasn’t the longest alpha he’d ever had, but he was thick, and even that small change in girth had Wade scrambling for coherent thought.

“ _Tell me_ ,” Peter growled, raising up onto his toes and slamming into him so hard it actually hurt now, punishing Wade for his disobedience, and if Wade could’ve come, he would have.

“I love it,” he said, or tried to, his mouth forming the words, although only grunts escaped, his fingers spasming in the sheets. 

Not for the first time, he wished that his original heat partner hadn’t gotten sick and had to cancel just hours before they were supposed to meet up, wished that Peter hadn’t been the one to overhear his conversation and volunteer his services. He’d had a crush on Peter for months—more than a crush if he were being honest—but he’d never done anything about it, had never _planned_ on doing anything, because Peter didn’t like him and with good reason. 

Wade had been an asshole to him when they’d met. He’d been having the latest in a string of shitty days, the voices in his head that were always telling him he wouldn’t ever be good enough had been particularly loud, and to top it off, people had been staring and whispering about him when he’d gone to get lunch. He’d gotten back to the office just to have someone _else_ stare at him, and he’d …. well, it hadn’t been pretty, which was saying something, considering ever since his accident, his definition of the word had gotten a lot more expansive.

Oh, he’d tried to make up for it later, but he just got so nervous when Peter was around, and it was a case of trying too hard and coming on too strong and all of his jokes dancing the mambo with sexual harassment, and yeah, it’d never worked out.

He would’ve avoided Peter then, gotten over his feelings by putting space and time between them, except their jobs kept pushing them together, and Wade had found himself falling deeper and deeper the more he got to know Peter.

The same couldn’t be said of Peter, however.

He didn’t even know why Peter had volunteered to be his heat partner, except maybe he wanted to witness Wade’s humiliation first hand, wanted to revel in his submission, and if so, Wade was giving him everything he’d been hoping for. 

Wade could feel his slick squirting down his thighs with each of Peter’s thrusts, could barely hear anything over the wet, slapping sounds of Peter fucking into him, and he’d never produced this much slick with any partner before, but of course he was now, with Peter. He hated knowing that Peter would always remember how much Wade had wanted him, would be able to picture Wade begging him for his cock—and he would, it was just a matter of time—but what he hated the most was how the idea made him burn all the hotter for it.

Wade had always liked sex to be rough—what was the point otherwise—and like all omegas, he couldn’t really orgasm while he was in heat, so Wade would do whatever his partner wanted him to do and then thank him for it and ask for more. Most of his previous partners would always start out gentle and slow with him, cautious about his scars, only building up to what he really needed near the end of his heat. But not Peter. 

Peter didn’t treat him with kid gloves—and ohhh, Peter in gloves was quite the image—and believed him when he said “harder” and “give it to me” and “fuck, are you even moving back there?”

And Wade wanted him all the more because of it.

He heard a snarl just before Peter forced two fingers into his pussy alongside his cock, and Wade yelled, his body convulsing, the first of many tears starting to escape from eyes as he humped back into it, chasing every bit of sensation he could get.

“ _Tell. Me_ ,” Peter commanded, and Wade shuddered at the demand in his voice, unable to resist.

“I love it,” he gasped as Peter fucked him with fingers and cock until Wade was panting for breath and drooling into the sheets, but he didn’t care. The only thing that Wade could complain about was that Peter couldn’t go as hard or as deep with his fingers in the way, but the burn of the stretch made up for it, enough so that when Peter slid his fingers out finally, Wade whined and arched his back so he could display the way his hole clenched around Peter’s cock, hungry to be stuffed again. But then Peter grabbed his hips with both hands, yanking him back as Peter shoved forward, and Wade wasn’t disappointed anymore.

“Again,” Peter said, and it took a moment for Wade to understand, but when he did, he obeyed, louder this time as Peter’s knot started to catch. It barely slowed Peter down, but to Wade, each pop of Peter’s knot into and out of him felt huge, made Wade jerk and tremble, and it was so much, it was too much. Wade knew it’d just make things worse, but he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his cock and rutting into his hand, desperate for any kind of relief from what Peter was doing to him, even though he knew there wasn’t one, wouldn’t be one until his heat was over.

“Again.”

“I love it!” Wade said, nearly a shout as Peter pushed his knot into him again. It had gotten to the point where Peter had use real effort to get it in, had to force his way into Wade’s body, no matter how wet and open he was for him, and Wade’s hand clamped down on his cock as a mockery of an orgasm rippled through him, nowhere near the strength of a true one. If he’d been having non-heat sex, his orgasm probably would’ve knocked him out for the rest of the night, but here, at the beginning of his heat, all it did was frustrate him and make him want to demand Peter wreck his cunt until even a finger inside of him would be enough to make him cry, and if he didn’t get it, he thought he’d go insane. 

More insane. Whatever.

Wade’s teeth clacked together as Peter jerked his knot out of him, the pain bright and beautiful for one glorious second, and then Peter was pulling out altogether.

“No, _no_ ,” Wade panted, twisting around, wanting Peter’s cock, _needing_ it, and for a second he freaked out that Peter had finally come to his senses and been overcome with disgust because of all his scars—but then Peter’s fingers slid back into him, and while Wade wouldn’t turn down Peter fingerfucking him normally, it the worst kind of tease after feeling the beginning of his knot. Did Peter understand how knotting was supposed to work, what the hell? 

Peter chose that moment to pull his hand away and shove back into him, and that alone almost had Wade biting through his lip, but then a finger slid into his ass—oh fuck, oh fuck, Peter had been slicking up his fingers in Wade’s pussy—and Wade had never been a screamer, but he could probably could learn how, he thought, as his body thrashed in another ruined orgasm. 

He decided Peter’s knot should be the Eighth Wonder of the World when Peter cursed and thrust deeper as he started to come. It just felt _so good_ , stuffing him full, relieving the ache, if only for a few minutes, as his body got what it wanted.

Wade knew it was just biology. When knotted, a gland in the Omega's body released a hormone that reacted with another hormone in Alpha come, and then those two combined to start a cascade of even more hormones that induced a rush of well-being and pleasure. Whatever, he didn’t care. He was with Peter. He didn’t care about anything else.

At least, not until Peter’s knot began to shrink, and the itch started building up again, and _fuck_.

Peter had him again and again over the next two days until Wade felt delirious. He kept demanding more from Peter, though, and he didn’t know how much was the heat and how much was Wade himself, but he couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck, Wade, you’re killing me,” Peter groaned, and Wade was too blissed out to respond as he took Peter further down his throat. Even though his heat was nearing it’s end, he couldn’t afford to let Peter come this way since he still needed to be knotted, but he’d discovered that the taste of his own juices on Peter’s skin was addictive. He kept switching between fucking himself on Peter’s cock and then getting off to suck him, and he didn’t want to stop.

The urgency was still there, don’t get him wrong, but once his heat was done, so was Peter, and Wade needed to store up every memory he could.

“You’re _amazing_ ,” Peter slurred out, and Wade shuddered at the compliment, deciding to hell with blow jobs, Peter needed to be knotting his pussy _tout de suite_.

Peter hadn’t been much of a talker for the past few days, except for the dirty talk, which Wade very much appreciated, so he was caught off guard when he climbed on, and Peter didn't stick to the standard _Ocean's 11 Inches_ dialogue, but instead said, “You look fucking perfect like this.”

He froze for a second, but now that Peter was inside of him, it felt too good to stop.

“I’ve … wanted to talk to you for such a long time,” Peter said, his hands holding onto Wade’s hips, not directing him, just holding him tight.

“Don’t,” Wade said, and he started going faster, wanting Peter to focus on Wade’s pussy and not—not whatever it was he was trying to say.

“I never thought you were interested, but then—”

“Please don’t,” Wade whispered, his voice a rasp. He just—

He’d always hated his heat, because he would lay himself bare in front of his partner, show the basest part of himself and have it accepted and wanted and even praised—and at the end of it all, his partner would walk away. And he’d thought he could handle it this time, the same way he’d always handled it, each and every damn time, but he couldn’t— _Peter_ couldn’t say those kind of things to him, because it’d break him. And Wade didn’t know if he’d ever be able to recover.

Peter’s lips thinned and his eyes turned sad, but he did what Wade asked and didn’t say anything else as he began pounding into him, nearly lifting him off the bed.

Wade wanted to get lost in the sensation, in the flex of Peter’s muscles—just how fucking strong was he, holy shit—but he couldn’t drown out Peter’s words.

_I’ve … wanted to talk to you for such a long time._

Peter couldn’t be serious. 

Could he?

The voices in his head started clamoring to be heard, and Wade had never been so grateful for anything as for when Peter suddenly manhandled him, lifting him off Peter’s cock—”Hey, I was using that!”—and onto his stomach. 

Wade pulled his knees up under him as Peter got behind him, and then Peter really went to town on him, and he couldn’t hear anything over the slap of their bodies and his own groans. His pussy was tender enough that each thrust made him ache, but the pain made it all that much harder to think, and he welcomed it.

_I never thought you were interested, but then—_

No, he wasn’t thinking about that now.

Everything was swollen and chafed, but he still couldn’t stop himself from gingerly stroking his cock. Peter made him feel too good to _not_ touch himself, even knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere. He didn’t think anyone could get _used_ to being edged almost nonstop for three days straight, but he’d come to expect it, for that sense of something hanging just out of reach, the tension in his body ratcheting higher and higher with nowhere to go. 

Which was why he was so completely unprepared for actually orgasming, and what the fuck, okay, shit, yeah, screaming was definitely a go.

It was only afterward that he understood the significance, though. He’d come. That was it. His heat was over.

\-----

Wade didn’t mean to ask, wasn’t going to ask, was never, never ever going to ask, and yet.

“Did you mean it?” he said, the words slipping out without his permission as they spooned together, waiting for Peter’s knot to go down. 

He felt Peter go still behind him.

“Yes,” Peter said at last, his voice just as soft as Wade’s had been, his fingers tightening around Wade’s arm, holding onto him.

He didn’t know if he could believe it, didn’t understand how it could possibly be true when he’d been such an ass at first, and when he looked ... the way he looked. 

Except Peter had been looking at all of him for three days straight, and he hadn't run away yet, was still there as a matter of fact and not showing any signs of being impatient to leave now that the festivities were basically over. He'd even made it sound like he was _happy_ to be with Wade, and Peter wasn’t the type of person to lie about something like that. If Wade couldn’t trust any of the rest of it, he could trust in that.

And when it came down to it, damn it ... he _wanted_ to believe. 

Wade shuddered and let out a long breath. “Thank fuck,” he said at last, and shit, his heart was going to beat its way out of his chest. 

“So it’s okay?” Peter asked, and Wade marveled at the relief he heard in his voice, didn’t know what to do with it, didn’t know what to do with _himself_ , and just—

“Yeah, it’s okay,” he said roughly and started internally screaming as Peter wrapped his arm around his waist, and even though they were as close as they could possibly be, tried to pull him closer still.


End file.
